Metaphysical Curly Wurly

I've been holding on to these scans for a little while, just not posting them and letting them sit in my pictures folder, cluttering things up with a darkened reminder of my face and that my face exists. I just haven't quite felt that natural feeling of "yes, I have some words to put next to this" until now. But y'know, sometimes it's nice to have files just sitting around, waiting to give you a little push of inspiration at the right time.

I've taken to having a folder of pictures saved because they inspire me in some way, make me laugh, or just show a really cute skirt. I know that's a pretty normal thing to do, but I usually don't tend to have a folder for this purpose, and now I do, and it's kinda nice. It just lets things ruminate for a while. Small thoughts swirl around lazily like little electric blips (b-b-b-b-b-b-boing boom tschak).

It's coming up to autumn (my favourite season), and it's as if I can feel the time passing. Things have changed subtly (and maybe unsubtly) as always, just a touch, just a whirr. But here I am with my same face and the same darkness and the same breath. I got the same twisting identity to think about, like some kind of metaphysical Curly Wurly, and the strange desire to obtain a lip gloss.

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Thank you so much for your comments, especially if they include limericks about skeletons.